“Yup.” I beam. “I unpicked the seam in the ass of every pair of pants he owns. He won’t even notice until he’s at the office, and even then, he’ll just think he put on weight and split them himself.”
Jacob laughs. “Nice move.” He hops down and repositions the stool. “While you were busy, I decided to leave some gifts in the curtain rods.”
“What kind of gifts?”
“Frozen shrimp.” Jacob gives me a wicked grin, and maybe it’s the whiskey or the sweet, sweet scent of revenge, but he looks sexy as hell. “I found it in the freezer. I read about one girl who did it to her ex. It all started rotting but they couldn’t find the smell anywhere. In the end, they moved out—and took the curtain rods to the new place, too.”
I laugh and hold my hand up for a high five. “Any other genius ideas?”
“Well, there’s always the old ‘hair remover in the shampoo’ trick,” Jacob suggests. I guess he’s nothing if not resourceful. “My sister pulled it on her bitch of a roommate in college, says she nearly had a nervous breakdown.”
“You have a sister?” I realize I know absolutely nothing about this guy—except, of course, his taste in whiskey and petty revenge.
“Step,” he shrugs. “From my dad’s second marriage. She’s out in California, making YouTube kids into millionaires. And if there’s one thing she knows, it’s how to win. What do you say?”
I shake my head. “Petty, yes. Cruel, nope.” He looks surprised. I sigh. “I know Harmony’s a bitch who screwed my boyfriend, but I like to think Karma will deal with her in the end.”
“Your call,” Jacob says. “But we should probably get going before the bro downstairs realizes what a mistake he made.”
“Let’s do it.” I take a last look around at the life Todd chose over me. Over us. Cold and clinical and so perfect you could never relax. “He’s welcome to it.”
Jacob heads for the door, but I can’t resist one final “fuck you.” I turn on the faucet in the kitchen and let it run quietly as we let ourselves out. If they don’t make it back until dawn, they’re going to find a whole lot of water damage in the carpets.
“Enjoy spending your bonus on that, asshole.” I shut the door behind me with a smile and head to the elevator. We’re heading back down when the exhilaration hits me. “Oh my god, what did we just do? I’m a criminal!”
“Minor vandalism,” Jacob reassures me.
“No, I mean, this is awesome!” I smile at him, my pulse racing. “I’ve never done anything like this. I can’t believe it!”
Before I can think twice, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you!” I exclaim. “That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”
He laughs and sets me back on the ground. “Then your ex is even more useless than I thought,” he says with a smoldering look.
Our eyes catch, and bam, that heat surges through me again.
Hello, lover.
I flush. What did I say before? Vengeance first, orgasms later. Well, now we’re right on schedule . . .
DING!
The doors open, and I stop, startled. Jacob peers out. “All clear, come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. We race across the lobby, and thankfully, the doorman is nowhere to be seen.
Freedom!
I stumble through the revolving doors and out into the freezing air. He magically hails another cab, and we fall in. “Where to?” the cabbie asks.
Jacob meets my gaze. He lifts an eyebrow. “Seems a shame to cut the night short,” he says casually. “I live nearby, if you want another drink.”
A drink. A kiss. A night of earth-shattering pleasure. Sure, sign me up.
“OK,” I shrug, acting just as nonchalant. “Why not?”
He leans forward and says something to the driver, and then we’re moving off. My heart is still racing, and I can’t stop imagining Todd’s face when he finds all the little gifts we left. “Thank you,” I tell Jacob, feeling a wash of gratitude.
“What for?”
“That, back there. I never would have done any of it without you.”
He laughs. “Don’t tell that to the cops.”
My jaw drops open. “Whoa,” Jacob says quickly. “I’m kidding. They won’t call the cops. At least, I don’t think so.”
“OK.” I take a deep breath. Sure, I’m not exactly living my dream life working retail and struggling to pay the bills, but a conviction would pretty much screw my chances of ever making my dreams come true. “We’re just going to pretend everything’ll work out fine. I really don’t look good in orange.”
He laughs. “I don’t know about that. You would look good in anything.”
I gulp, feeling a tingle all the way through me. “You’re pretty smooth, aren’t you?”
He grins. “And you’re pretty drunk.”
I shake my head. “Not anymore. I guess breaking and entering sobers you up pretty well.”
“Good to know.” Jacob gives me another wolfish look, and I squirm. When did he get so sexy? I wonder. I’m pretty sure back at the bar he was a seven, but now . . . ?
Now I want to strip him naked right in the middle of Times Square.
Luckily, I don’t have to. The cab pulls up, and Jacob pays him while I get out and look around. “Umm, Jacob?” I ask. We’re on a dark street with weird industrial-looking buildings. I thought Della was the one who might wake up in a dumpster, but now I’m reassessing my odds.
“Trust me,” Jacob says, taking my hand. And even though I don’t really have a reason, somehow, I do. I follow him to one of the doorways and wait while he taps in a security code. He holds the door for me. “Home sweet home.”
“You live here?” I ask dubiously.
“Give it a chance.” Jacob pulls up a metal grille and climbs a dark flight of stairs. I would turn around and run for the cab, except these shoes are freaking killing me, and I still feel the imprint of his touch burning through my skin. The current between us is almost electric and have the feeling that if I happen to fall into this guy’s bed I’m going to have a really hard time getting back out.
So maybe he lives in a concrete studio with a bare mattress in the corner of the room and stolen paper towels for TP. I can deal with that.
“You better be worth it,” I mutter, following him blindly up the stairs.
“What was that?” he asks, flipping on a light.
I stop. “Nothing . . .” I say.
I take it all back. We’re standing in a massive loft space with exposed brick and pipework running down the walls. It’s cool and industrial and definitely better than a dorm room. “Wait, what was all that talk about Todd being loaded? Because I’m sorry, but you’re hardly one to talk.”
“There’s a big difference between fifteen hundred square feet in Brooklyn Yard and over here,” he grins. “I’m praying they move a Starbucks in soon, and I didn’t just sink my life savings into a total loss.”
“You own this place?” My voice goes up an octave. “I’m crashing on my friend Della’s couch with my worldly possessions in a suitcase! What do you do?” I demand. “Are you like one of those awful hipster-prenuers they write about in the newspaper, the ones who start a local small-batch brewing company and become instant millionaires?”
“Hipster? You wound me.” He clutches his chest, and I smirk.